


Who Dies?

by Quixotic_Grantaire



Series: Tumblr Hamilton Prompts [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 14:53:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5379239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quixotic_Grantaire/pseuds/Quixotic_Grantaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hamilton got into another fight, but this one was different; this one was worse. This one left him unconscious in a pool of his own blood, nearly dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Dies?

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry! I know I ought to be working on "What We Don't Have", but I couldn't get this out of my head, so I went ahead and wrote it. Sorry!
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

“My god.” Laurens whispered, gripping the wall. Hamilton was lying on the ground in a fetal position. There was blood everywhere, on the walls, on the ground, on Hamilton. 

Laurens couldn’t breathe; he couldn’t even move to help his injured friend. All he could focus on was the sheer amount of blood and the stench. Oh the stench. It was one part gore and two parts the stink of an alleyway outside a tavern.

Laurens slide down the wall, eyes still fixed on Hamilton. His knees were weak and he felt wobbly all over. But still did nothing.

“I did not find him! Perhaps we should—“ Lafayette gasped. He saw Hamilton first and failed to see the state Laurens was in. He rushed to Hamilton’s side, prying him into a better position carefully. “Go get us help!” Lafayette ordered to Laurens.

Laurens shook his head forcefully, clenching his fists around his knees. Lafayette ignored the odd behavior and set about looking Hamilton over.

His face was already bruising and he had a cut across his left cheekbone. On further examination, Hamilton’s right ankle was swollen inside the boot and his right arm was at the wrong angle. Lafayette dared not touch his chest for fear of injuring him further.

“We need to carry him home.” 

Laurens did not respond, and this time Lafayette noticed. He squinted quizzically at Laurens, scooting closer. 

“Is something wrong, mon ami?” He asked, reaching a hand out. Laurens gaze stayed fixed just over Lafayette’s shoulder. He tried to respond, but all that came out was a high, thin cry. He couldn’t get enough breath.

Lafayette frowned deeply. Patching up two incapacitated friends had not been on his to-do list when he woke up. Laurens breath was clearly not working correctly, as he seemed to be gasping for every mouthful.

“Hamilton is not dead. He is just unconscious.” Lafayette tried. Laurens nodded, but his breath did not slow. “Okay…breathe with me.” Lafayette placed one of Laurens’ hands over his own chest and took measured breaths, “Like this, you see?”

Laurens squeezed his eyes shut and pushed his thoughts toward Lafayette’s breath. He tried and mostly failed to avoid thinking about the mess just behind Lafayette’s shoulder. It was nearly five minutes before Lafayette was satisfied. He let Laurens go and pulled him up against the wall.

“Are you well now?” He asked. Laurens nodded weakly. Any idiot could tell that he was lying, but Lafayette gestured to Hamilton’s prone form anyway. “We must get him to your home. It is the closest, no?”

“It is.” Laurens voice was still thin and soft. It shook slightly around the edges as did his body. Nonetheless, he picked Hamilton up tenderly. Laurens was nearly the size of Washington and, thankfully, was plenty strong enough to heft Hamilton’s slight frame. 

Lafayette scouted ahead, picking streets with little traffic. Luckily, it was after dusk and few people were out.

In a matter of minutes, the three men arrived at a smallish townhouse that Laurens called his own. Lafayette slammed open the door and they went in, carrying Hamilton all the way to the small guest bed on the first floor.

“You have medical supplies?” Lafayette asked.

“Third shelf in my office.” Laurens replied absently. He was peeling Hamilton’s coat off, as carefully as possible whilst trying to avoid seeing the blood, “there are towels and clean water by the fireplace as well.”

“Oui” Lafayette left and returned a minute later, laden with a bucket of water, three small towels, and a packet of bandages. Laurens had stripped off everything sans Hamilton’s shirt, pants and right boot.

“The boot will not come off, I fear.” Laurens said.

“I see, we will have to cut it later. For now it is best we clean away this grime.” Lafayette said, wetting a towel. He wiped down Hamilton’s face.

Far from making it look better, the cleaning revealed a terrible black eye as well as a deep, previously obscured cut across Hamilton’s forehead.

Laurens paled at the sight. He began to feel the same dizzying worry that he felt in the alleyway. This time, however, Lafayette had the wits to notice immediately.

“Sit down, mon ami.” He pushed Laurens toward a chair.

“I should be helping!” Laurens said, resisting feebly.

“Do not be silly. You look as if you will faint any second.”

“I—“ Laurens’ protest trailed off and he sunk into the seat. His whole body felt jittery, and he was too afraid of damaging Hamilton in his current state to resist.

The night wore on. Lafayette cut away the boot to reveal swelling and horrific bruises along Hamilton’s whole lower leg. He cleaned out the cuts and applied bandages, pressed cold water to Hamilton’s head in the hopes of staving off a fever. By the time the sun rose, both men had fallen asleep by Hamilton’s bedside.

>>

A groan awoke Lafayette, who leaped up, waking Laurens who followed suit. Hamilton blinked blearily at the two faces and opened his mouth to speak, only to moan again.

Lafayette picked up the only remaining clean cloth, wet it, and let the water drip into Hamilton’s open mouth.

“Thank god you are awake.” Laurens said. Hamilton squinted at him and managed a few words.

“Why? What happened” His voice was hardly a whisper.

“You…you don’t know what happened.” Laurens stuttered. Lafayette rewet the cloth in silence and dripped more into Hamilton’s mouth.

“I—I was…” His gaze turned hazy, “talking ‘bout f-federal gov’ment” Hamilton’s voice slurred and his words ran together.

“Did you get into a fight?”

“Mmhm” Hamilton responded absently. His wandering eyes told Laurens that he was only half-aware of what was happening. Perhaps his head has been injured more severely than Lafayette thought.

“You were injured. Badly. You may have broken your arm as well as sprained your ankle, injured your chest, and sustained a blow to the head.”

“Hm.” Hamilton’s head listed to the side.

“Who did this to you?”

Hamilton was gone. His eyes were closed again and his breath had gone back to the shallow, regular beat of restless sleep.

Lafayette motioned to the door, walking out with Laurens in tow.

“It is worse than I feared.” Lafayette murmured.

“I know” Laurens responded.

“His head is muddled. It must be from the cut. I fear he may not be coherent for a time.”

“Aye. What can we do?”

“I am no physician, ami, but I would say that we must keep him in bed and stave off infection as best we can.”

“Is it not best that we call a physician then?” 

“He would have our heads when he recovers. We have never had need of a physician before.”

“It is fearful that there is a before. And besides, he has never been in such a poor state.”

“’On your own head be it’ is the saying, no?”

Laurens sighed and turned back to the room. Lafayette was right; Hamilton had no issue starting fights, but he did have some strange issue with doctors.

“On my own head indeed.” Laurens muttered, picking up the wet cloth and resigning himself to a day of caring from Hamilton.

>>

Hamilton drifted in and out of consciousness throughout the day. Laurens and Lafayette took shifts pacing the house and caring for Hamilton alternately. 

It was only after two days of hazy glares and unfocused pupils that Hamilton was finally coherent enough to talk.

He was propped up on all the pillows Laurens owned, and he had a fresh bandage wrapped around his head.

“What happened?” Laurens asked for the fifth time.

“I got into a fight. I lost” Hamilton responded for the fifth time as well.

Laurens sighed deeply. Hamilton refused say more than that. He would not tell who injured him.

“Why will you not tell me who did this?” Laurens asked. Lafayette was sitting in the far corner, looking on silently. He wore a frown, but did not engage.

“There is no need! It doesn’t matter!” Hamilton cried, his voice trailing off as he gasped for breath. It had become clear that some of his ribs were bruised or cracked.

“’It doesn’t matter’ Ha! We found you lying in a pool of your own blood, barely alive, and you say it does not matter you put you there?”

“Well, it doesn’t. I lived, didn’t I?”

Laurens stood suddenly, toppling the chair he was in, “You have lain insensible on a bed for two full days! You may not be dead, but you better thank god and Lafayette for that! We have not slept, trying to keep your heart beating in a broken body!” 

Lafayette had found his way to Laurens side and had a calming hand on his back.

“Why, why! Why must you run your mouth off? Someday Lafayette and I will not find you in time and you will die! What will your legacy be then?” Laurens’ chest heaved with the force of his words.

“I’m fine! You exaggerate.” Hamilton said back. He seemed unaffected by Laurens passion, and that set Lafayette off.

“You know,” Lafayette spoke calmly, “I agree with John. Someday we will not find you. I fear that day may be soon if you don’t reform your ways.”

“And what should I do instead? Just let people walk on me?”

“No! But you are not an island! You have friends who will help you if you just stop for a moment! You forget us and take on fights that leave you like this!” Laurens felt tears prick his eyes.

“He his right, mon ami. We are your friends. You must not let yourself get so swept up in the passion of it so that you forget that.”

“Please,” Laurens whispered, “I don’t want to die.”

Both men looked at him.

“You won’t die…?” Hamilton asked slowly.

“Yes. I will,” Laurens clenched his fists, “If you die, then I will too.”

Hamilton was, for once without words.

“I saw you, lying there, covered in blood, and I thought you were dead. I really did, and my whole world fell to pieces.” Tears were falling down Laurens face. Lafayette placed a hand on his back. “Don’t you understand?”

Hamilton shook his head, wincing at the pain.

“You are my whole world.” Laurens choked out. He sobbed. The room paused with the tangible shock radiating off of Hamilton. “You—you can’t just disappear, and you will! You will!” Laurens voice rose to a hysterical pitch, “You’ll die in an alleyway and your legacy will be me! It will be my death!”

Lafayette guided Laurens to the edge of the bed and turned to leave.

“I understand that I am not needed.” He said, closing the door behind him.

Laurens sat, head bowed, tears staining his face in silence for nearly a full minute before he felt Hamilton’s hand on his. He didn’t resist when Hamilton’s weak grip tugged him toward the pillows. He fell against them and turned to curl into Hamilton who rested his hand lightly on Laurens’ head.

They lay there for a long time without saying a word. After what may have been hours or mere minutes, Laurens whispered against Hamilton’s shoulder:

“I don’t want to die.”

“You won’t."

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this prompt from HamiltonPrompts on Tumblr: "Hamilton’s got a smart mouth, and he is definitely not above starting fights he can’t finish. One day he gets in over his head and gets beat up. Badly. Laurens or Lafayette and Laurens find him lying there and take him home. They clean up his wounds, and try in vain to get him to tell them who did this to him (Hamilton refuses to tell them). Then there are cuddles. Can be fluff or a more somber “what are we going to do if we keep finding you lying in your own blood?”
> 
> Please feel free to leave comments and criticisms below! I always welcome constructive critiques!


End file.
